Book vs Cover
by jamelia116
Summary: B'Elanna had tried to talk Tom out of leaving Voyager despite his recent "bad boy" behavior, but she was unsuccessful. Retreating to her quarters, B'Elanna reviews their history, trying to make sense of it all. (Episode extension, "Investigations.")


Book vs. Cover

by jamelia

"I don't understand you, Paris. How can you even think about leaving _Voyager_? Are you crazy? How long do you think you'd survive, alone in the Delta Quadrant? The Kazon will get hold of you! Seska will grind you up into tiny little pieces and scatter them all over the sector!" B'Elanna stormed. "Captain Janeway believes in you. You owe it to her to stay with us, if no one else. Don't give up on us, Tom!"

His gaze never wavered from hers the entire time she lashed out at him. In the face of her rage, he remained silent, saying nothing at all in his own defense. She expected defiance; it was nowhere in evidence, but if he thought a lack of response might reduce her anger, he was sadly mistaken. If anything, it made her even more furious than she had been when she'd first stomped into the mess hall with Harry, bent on talking him out of leaving.

Harry, Kes, and Neelix had all tried to talk him out of it, too. Finally, Tom mumbled something ridiculous about no one really caring about him. That everyone will be happier if he moved on. Better for everyone. And that's when she really lost it.

"If you don't care enough about us to help us get home, you deserve whatever torture Seska has in store. You're just an ungrateful bastard who didn't deserve the second chance Janeway and Chakotay gave you. Just GO!" she screamed.

And Tom took it from her, silent again, this time casting his eyes down and biting his lower lip. He didn't have the courage to look B'Elanna in the face. Bitter tears began to prickle in the corner of her eyes. She had to leave before they began to gush down over her cheeks in ugly waves.

=/\=

She ran all the way to her quarters, doing her best to keep her crying under control until she could dash into her private haven. Throwing herself on her bunk, B'Elanna gave in to despair, just as she had only short few months ago, after she'd seen him die. Of course, that was before he'd been resurrected as some weird alien being who abducted the captain and fathered a bunch of baby alien lizards by her. B'Elanna didn't want to think too deeply about why he stole their captain. She honestly didn't want to know if he took the captain because he's always wanted her, or if Kathryn Janeway was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe she'd been the only female close enough for him to grab as he fled _Voyager_ in the souped-up shuttle _Cochrane_. If B'Elanna she hadn't locked herself away in her cabin, sobbing over his death, perhaps he would have kidnapped her instead. Maybe they'd both have been better off as lizards.

B'Elanna lost track of how long she remained curled up on her bed, weeping inconsolably. All she knew was it was way too long a time to grieve for a stupid jerk. No one can cry forever, though, and she finally pulled herself together. Slipping out of her bed, B'Elanna staggered to her replicator and used some of her rations for a nice, tall glass of cool spring water. She gulped almost all of it down at once, but before she'd consumed the last little mouthful, she stopped. Taking out a handkerchief and soaking it with the last bit of water, she bathed her reddened eyes. If there should be a sudden emergency in Engineering, the last thing she wanted anyone to know was that she'd been crying over that unrepentant, worthless hunk of . . . of . . . hunk.

"You really are a fool, Torres. He never would have wanted to have anything to do with you anyway. A pretty boy like that would never dream of hooking up with you, except maybe for a one night stand. And you know you'd never let him do that to you." Bitter thoughts, muttered aloud, not likely to make her feel any better. She had to take her mind off them before she did something stupid herself, like punching the bulkhead and breaking her hand. Wouldn't the EMH just love to treat her for that!

Sighing, she began to pace the perimeter of her quarters, treating it, for once, as the Starfleet cage it really was instead of a refuge from the Delta Quadrant's penchant for fucking her over. After a while she realized her quarters were so small, she was virtually stalking herself. That was pretty idiotic, too, but B'Elanna didn't stop walking. She circuited the room over and over. Gradually her mood mellowed, and her quarters turned back into her own private sanctuary. One that was a little chilly for her taste, to be sure, but then, when every bit of energy had to be rationed to keep the starship moving, some sacrifices had to be made. No one knew that better than the chief engineer.

At last her rage and sorrow were spent. All she felt was an unbelievable sense of fatigue. She curled up in her bunk again, but she couldn't sleep. This time she didn't cry; she remembered.

=/\=

"You mean you don't know who your 'savior' was?" Seska laughed, with a nasty edge to it that told B'Elanna she was going to hate what her good buddy was about to tell her about that cute Starfleet guy who'd dragged her out of the caves and up onto the burning hot surface of the Ocampa world.

"No, I don't know who the hell he was. Enlighten me."

"That 'beautiful guy' was none other than the womanizing alcoholic who managed to betray both Starfleet _and_ the Maquis. B'Elanna, you were privileged to finally meet that loser and traitor, Tom Paris. You can't judge a book by its cover, B'Elanna, like these Starfleet types are fond of saying. I had all I could stomach from him during his stay with the Maquis. Chakotay couldn't wait to get rid of him once he realized what the guy was really like. Tom Paris may be nice to look at, but inside, he's a total jerk. Not even a glimmer of a conscience. Trust me, B'Elanna. He's not worth even a passing thought."

"He went back, Seska. Chakotay was trapped in the tunnels, and this Paris could have just left him there. The stairways were collapsing. He could have been killed-but he still went down to rescue Chakotay. He can't be all bad."

"Ha! He probably figured out he could get something out of it. Maybe he wants to con Janeway into letting him into her bed. It would be just like him. He must have had some idea of what was in it for him, or he wouldn't have gone back for Chakotay. You can't trust a calculating bastard like that, B'Elanna. Forget him."

B'Elanna could barely hide her disappointment. Just another proof of her inability to judge a person's character. She should have learned that by now. She'd had enough practice making mistakes like this about people. As she looked around at her new "digs," however, she realized something else. "That's certainly not going to be easy, seeing as how we're going to be stuck on the same ship for the next seventy years or so."

"Oh, we can avoid him. He'll be hanging out with his Starfleet buddies. We Maquis will stick together. Janeway is delusional if she thinks she can ever get everyone to work together. She's just another Federation optimist. But don't let your guard down. The Feds abandoned Bajor and the Maquis so they could keep their asses out of another war with the Cardassians. With their prissy notions about 'the right way' to do things, they'll never be able to beat them. And they know it, too."

"Chakotay is willing to work with her. He sacrificed the _Val Jean!_ "

"Oh, B'Elanna, B'Elanna, B'Elanna. You know I still love the poor sap, but at heart, Chakotay is another one of those Starfleet optimists. He's always been playing at being a rebel. It's just not in him to do the tough things. We could have taken over this ship if he'd been willing to take the risk, but instead he's groveling in front of Janeway like her pet dog." Seska shook her head sadly. "Maybe I can talk some sense into Chakotay now that we're out here. Make him see reason. The chance for a mutiny may not be over yet. We have to take care of ourselves, B'Elanna. Our mealy-mouthed 'Captain' Janeway is going to stab us in the back someday. Count on it. She sent Tuvok to spy on us. We'll have to be ready to defend ourselves when the time comes . . ."

=/\=

And then they'd gone on a gossip spree, tearing apart the rest of the Starfleet crew they'd had a chance to meet, like that snob Carey in Engineering, Lieutenant Tuvok the spy, and naïve little Harry Kim.

Even then, she'd felt bad about the nasty things she said about Harry. What a fool she was! And even more, for trusting that snake Seska, the Cardassian spy in Bajoran guise who jumped ship to the Kazon once her true identity was exposed. Who knew if Seska was even her real name? She'd lied to everyone and spread dissension throughout the crew. B'Elanna was sure she'd only pretended to be B'Elanna's friend to warp her perceptions of some very good people.

One of those she thought was a good person was Tom Paris. And now he was going out there, away from _Voyager_ , putting himself right in the path of that nasty piece of work, Seska. He didn't stand a chance. She'd use him and destroy him. What a total waste!

Not that Tom was perfect. When he put on that "Look at me! I'm a womanizing jerk and I really don't care if you think I only care for myself" routine, he was disgusting. Sandrine's, his first big holodeck creation, was a perfect example of that. Seriously, holographic hookers programmed to crawl all over him, hanging on his every word? That low-life pool shark, who hijacked everyone's precious replicator credits? The rigged betting pools? And worst of all, that slimy gigolo who came onto her. She'd wanted to kick him in his holographic balls. Instead she ran to his creator and spit, "He's a pig, Paris, and so are you!" right into Tom's face.

And yet . . . yet he'd looked a little stunned by her attack. Like maybe it hurt him to hear her reject his creations and, by extension, Tom Paris himself. At the time, she hadn't considered that no one wanted anything to do with the pilot except for Harry Kim. Harry, who had befriended her when all of the other Starfleet types were still giving her the cold shoulder, muttering about how terrible it was she had been named chief engineer by Janeway instead of Joe Carey. He'd defended her to them. And he thought a lot of Paris, just the way he had of her.

Tom put more of his pain and loneliness in that Sandrine's holoprogram than she'd ever taken the time to notice back then. Maybe no one else has realized it, even now. Was that what he meant about no one caring about him?

At that time, he flirted with everyone. Was that Paris acting the randy goat, or was he lonely and scared and looking for a woman who would be his friend? Or more than a friend. She remembered that evening in the mess hall, after Tuvok used a mind meld to clear him of killing the Banean scientist, Dr. Ren. She was late meeting Harry and Tom for dinner that night, but they were still there talking when she arrived. The dinner hour was long over and the mess hall was virtually deserted. When she got close enough to hear his conversation with Harry, Tom clammed up. Of course, it was easy for her to pry it out of Harry later on. He told her Tom was bemoaning his _"cherchez la femme"_ behavior because it was always getting him into trouble. He had to quit flirting because it was too easy for him to screw up whenever he did.

He'd seemed better after that. Less self-centered. More of a "team player," as Harry always was encouraging them all to be. Then came the mission that really made her see Tom in a new light. They were captured by the Vidiians while they were scouting for resources on a planetoid. That creep of a doctor Sulan split her into two B'Elannas-one who was a mild mannered, weak human; the other, an aggressive, violent Klingon. But brave. She must not leave that out, because Klingon B'Elanna saved human B'Elanna's ass at the cost of her own life.

Her human half had felt frightened and lonely when the guards threw her into the dormitory, but then Tom discovered her. He was so kind. Tom listened to her sad story about her family history; her upbringing on Kessik; how terrible she felt when her father abandoned the family; how ashamed she'd been of looking Klingon, especially of the ridges on her forehead. He'd shared a few stories of his own, like when he was a kid and hid the haircuts his father forced on him with hats. She could never decide if the stories Tom told her that night were true, or if he was making them up as he went along to make her feel better. Maybe it didn't matter. He calmed her down. He bolstered her courage, telling her that fear wasn't a bad thing because it helped keep a person from taking unnecessary risks. By the time he was done, he'd convinced her that you could act heroically, even if you were frightened to death.

That was when she first saw the officer and gentleman Tom must have been before he'd messed up after the accident on Caldik Prime. He tried to protect her when she was having trouble holding her own in the mines, tried to keep her from being sent to "Organ Processing." Tom stood up to the guard and insisted as the superior officer, he was the one who should go with the Vidiian in an attempt to keep Pete Durst from being taken away. She still got chills whenever she remembered it could have been Tom's face Dr. Sulan stole instead of Durst's, when he tried to impress her Klingon personality.

Once Chakotay rescued them, she'd ended up in sickbay for a week. The Doctor said she had to have her Klingon genes restored. Tom visited her twice every day, usually once before his shifts began and again after they ended. He'd been so sweet and encouraging then, too, telling her she was looking better every day, despite the fact the Doctor was taking away her pretty human face to bring back the one that wasn't one or the other, the weird Klingon/human hybrid one she'd always had to live with. Tom told her he liked her best with that face. It was the way she looked when he first met her. She knew he was lying about that, of course, but it was a nice thing for him to say. She needed to hear it then.

Then there was that warped smart Pralor robot she'd foolishly revived. "Automated Personnel Unit 3947" wanted her to mass produce duplicates of himself. When Janeway refused, 3947 kidnapped B'Elanna and transported over to a Pralor ship filled with his violent robot buddies. She was going to do it, too, since they were planning to destroy _Voyager_ if she didn't. After a ship of their robot enemies attacked, who was it who slipped between the combatants in a shuttle and rescued her? Paris, of course. She owed her life to him that time, too.

And only a few weeks ago, she tried to return the favor. While they were working to stop Dreadnought, she confronted him about his slipping back into bad boy behavior. He hadn't gotten mad at her for butting in on a subject she had no business talking with him about. Instead, he praised her because she'd adjusted to life on _Voyager_ so much better than he thought she could. He said he was the one who hadn't been able to adjust.

She couldn't make sense of it. He'd been doing so well. He _had_ adjusted. He'd played the hero many times, heedless of the danger to himself. Then to do this? 'He must _really_ be a screw up,' she thought. 'Or an idiot. Take your pick, Torres.'

Or could there be another explanation?

Once the question struck her, B'Elanna thought about it for a minute or two before calling Harry. "Where's Tom now?" she asked.

"He's on the holodeck. I have no idea which program he's running. I don't want to bother him now. The captain let him have extra time tonight. You know he may never get a chance to enjoy himself in a holoprogram again, don't you, Maquis?"

"Harry, has the Doctor checked him out thoroughly? Things are so screwy out here. The Doctor might not have gotten rid of all the lizard DNA that messed him up so badly. Or maybe he's being affected by some alien presence who's taken over his brain, like the time Tuvok was taken over by the Komar, when Chakotay was in a coma."

"I asked the Doc specifically about that. He says there's nothing to indicate anything like that is happening. His pet diagnosis is 'Starfleet Brat Syndrome.' He claims it's just 'more of Mr. Paris' inability to care about anyone but himself.' Honestly, B'Elanna, it seems to me that Tom _has_ been having second thoughts. I know he recorded a whole bunch of 'Last Messages" to people today. Still, he says he's going through with leaving the ship tomorrow. Neelix, Kes and I are planning on saying good bye to him before he transports over to the Talaxian convoy. Maybe we can take another shot at stopping him then. Do you want to be there, too?"

"I'd like to, Harry, if I can get away. Comm me when you go to meet up with him. I just . . . I just can't believe he's so stupid about leaving. How can he possibly think no one cares about what's going to happen to him? Doesn't he know we care?"

"I don't know the answer to that, B'Elanna. I'll alert you when he's ready to leave, though. I hope we can change his mind at the last minute, but you know how stubborn Tom can be."

"Not to mention idiotic."

She could almost hear Harry smile as he signed off. Optimistic Harry. B'Elanna wanted to think they'd be able to stop Tom, but she really couldn't believe they would. He'll leave. She just knew it. What a waste!

=/\=

As promised, Harry called her when Tom was about to leave, but she didn't dare leave Engineering just then. A serious problem with the magnetic constrictors had cropped up, and she needed to supervise her people closely to ferret out the problem.

After she'd closed the comm link with Harry, Michael Jonas made the mistake of saying, within her hearing, "Good riddance to bad garbage."

"Thanks so much for your input, Jonas," she snarled. "So, speaking of garbage, why are you still standing here when I asked you to work on uncovering the problem with the magnetic constrictors?"

Her former Maquis shipmate turned swiftly on his heels, almost leaping to the warp core to complete the diagnostics she'd ordered him to run.

'At least someone can take a hint,' B'Elanna told herself, bereft. She'd missed her last chance to say she was sorry she'd blown up at Tom. To try to talk him out of leaving. And worst of all, she'd missed saying good-bye to him.

=/\=

Michael Jonas, one of her Maquis buddies, the traitor who was selling them out to Seska. She felt like shit. She was the idiot. Now everyone knew Tom Paris hadn't been the stupid one after all. He'd been nasty to Chakotay and acting like a slacker for one reason only: to try to smoke out the identity of the traitor the captain and Tuvok had discovered was in league with B'Elanna's erstwhile Bajoran colleague, the Cardassian spy who had reassumed her natural form once she'd slipped away from _Voyager_ and into the arms of the Kazon sect leader, Maj Cullah. B'Elanna had to hand it to Seska. The bitch was very good at forming romantic relationships with the males she wanted to manipulate.

B'Elanna couldn't decide whether she should be more enraged she'd never suspected Jonas was up to no good, or over just how completely she'd been taken in by Tom's charade. She should have seen through him. She knew him better than that, if only from the way he'd acted towards her during and after mad Dr. Sulan and his "Genotron" experiments. She _knew_ Tom was a better man than he'd been acting for the past several weeks. She should have believed in him. And _he_ should have trusted her and told her the truth! She knew how to keep a secret. How come he couldn't see that?

=/\=

She finally had the latest engine problem licked (for the time being, at least). Her lunch was going to be very late. Hopefully Neelix still had something edible available, because B'Elanna was really hungry today. Leola root pancakes would simply not cut it.

She literally ran into Tom. He was exiting the mess hall just as she turned into the entrance. B'Elanna's face almost landed in the middle of his chest. Her cheeks began to burn. She felt like punching him. Shaking him. Or something.

"B'Elanna . . . "

From Tom's facial expression, she knew she wasn't going to be able to murmur a quick apology to get past him, to get to where Neelix was standing in front of the last crumbs of the midday meal. She might have to push him aside to get through. Or maybe saying a quick sentence or two would be enough to get rid of him quickly-particularly if it was rude.

"Saw your piece on _A Briefing with_ _Neelix_ this morning," she sniffed. "Hope you had a great time making fools of us all."

"B'Elanna, I need to talk to you," Tom said. He looked around and nodded to Neelix, who was one of the few still in the mess hall at this hour. Bending down close to her ear, he whispered, "Just the two of us."

She let him pull her out into the corridor. It took a great effort to control herself, because her temper had flared. Instead of talking to him, she felt like smacking him across that beautiful, sneering face of his. He certainly deserved it. Except he wasn't sneering at her. He was having trouble meeting her eyes. Finally, pressing his lips tightly together, he dared to look straight at her. 'The fake sincere look,' she thought miserably, because she wanted so much for it not to be a lie.

He began to speak, not bothering to utter any preliminaries. "B'Elanna, when you were screaming at me in the mess hall before I left, I couldn't say much. It wasn't only because I'd agreed to this plot of Captain Janeway's and Tuvok's. I was trying to make everyone think I'd gone back to my self-centered, idiotic ways; and, if I do say so myself, I made a pretty good job of it." She snorted her agreement but said nothing, allowing him to continue. "If I really had been leaving because I thought no one cared about me, what the four of you said that night would have convinced me to stay. When you ran out the door, I wanted to chase after you so badly, to yell that I really didn't mean it. I _wanted_ to tell you it was all an act. But I couldn't risk it, you see? The captain and Tuvok trusted you, and they trusted Chakotay, too. They were sure the two of you couldn't possibly be the traitors they were after, but we had to make it convincing. I couldn't let my guard down with _anyone_ , or I'd blow the mission. You had to think I was the jerk I was pretending to be so you didn't change how you acted, tipping the real traitor off. Jonas might not have taken the bait. So it worked, but I know I hurt you. And I'm really, really sorry."

"A very pretty speech, Paris. Are you going to use the same one on Chakotay? Because from the way you were chortling on _A Briefing with Neelix_ this morning, you've just burned more bridges with him than you ever did with your insubordination act. Assuming it really was an act."

He had the grace to look away, his face turning a very rosy pink. Tom looked deeply embarrassed. "Yeah, I know. I got carried away with Neelix this morning. I shouldn't have let that happen. I'm really going to have to eat some humble pie before our first officer now. I hope he'll forgive me sometime within the next ten years or so. The truth is, it was easy for me to act like that because I think he's always half expected me to backslide eventually. It _was_ fun sometimes. But other times, like when I was working with you in Engineering and you were being so nice, trying to get me back on the straight and narrow-when we were working to stop Dreadnought, remember? That wasn't fun at all. I felt terrible. You were trying to help me, and I was pushing you away. B'Elanna, I really am sorry about that. About all of it, really, but especially that. You were showing your faith in my intelligence, and I acted like a total jerk."

"Well, you got that right."

He smiled, a little sadly. "We can agree on that, then. Your friendship means a lot to me, B'Elanna. I don't have a lot of friends on this ship. You, along with Harry, Neelix, and Kes, are pretty much it. I've already apologized to them, and they've said they've forgiven me. I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive me, too."

At that moment she became aware of how close their bodies were to each other. He was leaning against the bulkhead, with an arm on either side of her head. They were close enough to kiss. B'Elanna was more aware than ever of the beautiful aquamarine color and clarity of his eyes. The heady scent of the soap he'd used this morning, not to mention the ersatz coffee Neelix must have served him in the mess hall, filled her senses. She had to pull herself firmly back within herself in order to mutter, "I'll think about it, Paris."

"That's all I can ask for now."

"I'm not the only one you need to ask to listen to you. You'd better find Chakotay and apologize to him, too-for the _'Briefing'_ thing, especially."

"Yeah. You're right, I do. B'Elanna-thanks for stopping and talking with me. I wasn't sure you would."

What could she say? She almost hadn't. It did seem like he meant it, though. She'd try to forgive him. She almost snorted at how ridiculous her thoughts were. Of course she would forgive him, and it wouldn't take her ten years to do it. But first she 'd make him sweat a little. He deserved _that_ for the way he'd acted, under orders or not.

He shook his head and twisted his lips, the way he did when he was about to make one of those annoying, self-deprecating comments about himself. He moved back a little from her, pulling his arms away from the bulkhead to let her walk into the mess hall. Murmuring a small, "See you around," he walked away from her down the corridor. She looked to see if he was bouncing along in that self-confident strut he usually used, but she must have been right about him almost making one of his self-deprecating comments. Maybe he was saying them in his head, just not out loud, because he was walking a little more slowly, with no trace of his usual arrogant gait.

Clearly, their conversation was over. She turned back to the mess hall entrance, in anticipation of searching out whatever culinary delights Neelix was dispensing. Tom stopped her by calling out her name. When she turned around to face him again, he asked, "Hey, uh . . . Harry and me are planning on going to Sandrine's tonight. Would you like to join us?"

"I don't know. Will that slimy gigolo and your holobabe Ricky be there, too?"

He put on that quirky grin she found irresistible. "I think I might be able to arrange for them to have a prior commitment this evening."

"I'll see you around 2000, then. If my engines don't act up again, that is."

"If you want me to give them a good talking-to, just call me. I'll do anything to get back in your good graces, even woo your engines."

She rolled her eyes at his flippant remark. Such a flirt. At least he wasn't likely to get in over his head with her warp core-and it might even work.

As he waved a good-bye and strode away down the corridor with a little more of the usual Paris bounce in his step, B'Elanna sighed. The man looked good, and he knew it. If his "book" really was like his "cover," he was pretty special, even if a little too much ego marred a few of the pages.

Seriously, she couldn't imagine ever getting together with Tom, even to have a fling. They were too mismatched a pair: a real "Beauty and the Beast," except in this particular Delta Quadrant fairy tale, he was Beauty and she was the Beast. She'd just have to accept that. But friendship? Really good friends? Yeah, maybe _that_ they could still manage.

But they'd both have to work on it.

=/\=

The End of the Beginning

=/\=

 _I'm sure there are a ton of stories that cover this ground. I remember one very early P/T story in particular which was named Beauty and the Beast, but there were many allusions to that fable in fanfic written in the early days, before P/T became a canon relationship on the series, so this is just one more._

 _It's hard to pinpoint when Torres became interested in Paris, and vice versa, but they were doing lots of flirting in "The Swarm." By "Alter Ego," there was no doubt something was going on. I think it was even a LOT earlier. When I saw "Faces" for the first time, I distinctly remember saying to myself, "They'd be great together, but the producers will never let it happen." So clearly, I am no seer. In my defense, I'd been thoroughly burned by the Riker/Troi "now it seems something is going to happen, whoops, no it isn't" mating dance TNG put us through. (But eventually TPTB let it happen for them, too, thankfully.)_

 _Right after I started working on this story, I discovered Sareki's "Revelations." I almost didn't read it because I was afraid I'd inadvertently lift something from hers. They're pretty different, however. If anything, her story inspired me to finish this one. So thanks, Sareki!_ _I'm dedicating this story to you._

 _One more thing: the unavoidable "general disclaimer." I don't claim to own any part of the Star Trek Universe. Paramount owns all, including the characters and the first season episodes alluded to in the story, especially "Investigations," "Faces," and "Caretaker." I'm only making use of the characters and plotlines to fill in a few scenes which never made it on screen. They're only rattling around my brain. I'm sharing with my readers (if any are left this long after the series' ending) for their enjoyment only._


End file.
